


"Utterly Forbidden"

by orphan_account



Series: Les Misérables: Daemonverse [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, Original Character(s) - Daemons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the kink meme:</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>i have this sudden need for a daemon au where, after gavroche denounces javert and he then tries to escape, enjolras just <i>grabs his daemon</i><br/>HEAR ME OUT HERE ENJOLRAS IS DESCRIBED AS "A CHARMING YOUNG MAN CAPABLE OF BEING TERRIBLE"<br/>that's it i have no other specifics. (except javert's daemon should be a wolf SHE JUST SHOULD OKAY)</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	"Utterly Forbidden"

**Author's Note:**

> heavily based on the book, much dialogue is paraphrased from "The Idyll in the Rue Plumet and the Epic in Saint Denis, Book Ten: June 5, 1832, 'The Recruit of the Rue Des Billettes'". word count is a couple hundred or so under 2000 words. i worked very hard on this, but toward the end i didn't quite know how to end it with a bang, so its end is more of a whimper. hopefully it satisfies anyhow. (this work has chapters because i may or may not add on to it later. it depends on how much feedback i get and how i feel about the concept. i know for certain that i will be writing more in this alternate universe, though.)
> 
> credit to Philip Pullman for this concept of daemons, and to Victor Hugo for everything else.

> ...it was the grossest breach of etiquette imaginable to touch another person’s daemon. Daemons might touch each other, of course, or fight; but the prohibition against human-daemon contact went so deep that even in battle no warrior would touch an enemy’s daemon. It was utterly forbidden.

from _The Golden Compass_ (Philip Pullman)

* * *

After handing off the position of lookout over the barricade to Courfeyrac and his daemon, Melania, Enjolras sought out Gavroche.   
He found him in the lower room of the Corinthe, not making cartridges as he had said he would do earlier. (This didn’t faze Enjolras, who was so focused on the task at hand that he forgot entirely what Gavroche was supposed to be doing.) Enjolras approached the boy unabashedly and laid a firm hand on his shoulder, going out of his way to avoid touching his daemon, who looked affronted at having her place taken by a human. Gavroche peered up at Enjolras through his scruffy hair, quizzical.  
  
“I want you to go out, beyond the barricade, and look around along the streets, come back and tell me what is happening,” Enjolras said, with a tone that clearly indicated this was something he more demanded than wanted. By way of an explanation, he added, “You are smaller than the rest of us, and your daemon has not settled and thus can take a small form. No one will see you.”  
  
In response, Gavroche grinned, happy to be given a task. He said, more to himself than to Enjolras, something about how finally he is good for something and that yes he would go, and then turned to leave. He did not make more than a few short strides toward the doorway, though, when he began to think of something, and beckoned for Enjolras to approach him again. When Enjolras did, Gavroche spoke in a hurried whisper, his hand cupping his mouth.  
  
"You see that man over there? The big old one with the wolf daemon?"  
  
It did not take very long for Enjolras to see who the gamin was talking about. In the dark basement room of the wine shop, large daemons did not go unnoticed, and it was not very crowded in the first place. The man was sitting at a dimly lighted table in the corner, a musket on his lap and a hand in the grey fur of his companion. He gave the impression of a man in a trance of some sort, and he looked mostly harmless as far as Enjolras could see, though there was certainly a visible rougher quality to him.   
  
"Yes?"  
  
There was a short pause of deliberation: taking the form of a small flying insect of some kind, Gavroche's daemon fluttered near his ear, and Gavroche turned his head toward her. It was clear to Enjolras that some form of communication was taking place between the two; while he could no longer do as such with his own daemon in her permanent form as a lion, he remembered all too well the attempts at inconspicuous conversations that took place prior to the settling when the two of them were surrounded by others who might overhear.   
Rocking back and forth on his feet, Gavroche turned his head back toward Enjolras, tilted his chin upward, and whispered, "I know him. He’s Inspector Javert; he’s a spy."  
  
Laurea growled, softly, but not without attracting attention from several other men in the room and their own daemons. Enjolras brushed the back of his hand along her neck to calm her prior to speaking, knowing full well that if he didn’t she would probably become much more agitated, for she was far more easily riled than he was. He then looked over his shoulder again, to see if either man or daemon had changed position. They had not. "You are certain?" Gavroche nodded, looking up at Enjolras expectantly. It did not take long for Enjolras to process this information, and he did not hesitate in stepping away from Gavroche toward a group of workingmen, who looked up at the heavy sound of the man and his daemon’s footsteps.  
  
While Enjolras knelt at the table the men were sitting at to speak with them in hushed tones about the situation at hand, Laurea examined their daemons in a silent appraisal. They were almost all smaller, hearty animals - a vixen, a manul cat, a thylacine. Each appeared to be, at the very least, nervous and guarded, which made sense - daemons often expressed emotion to other daemons that their humans did not. Laurea knew better than anyone that she and her human counterpart could be intimidating, even if Enjolras himself often took no notice. (This was the main reason why, as the largest daemon in the room, she had taken it upon herself earlier to keep the peace between them all.)  
  
Enjolras stood abruptly, as did the other men at the table. He ran his fingers through the fur between Laurea’s ears before striding several paces ahead of her, toward the man with the wolf daemon. It was a close enough distance that neither were pained, but still far enough that Laurea felt almost uncomfortable.  
  
The aura in the room shifted instantly, the laidback atmosphere replaced with thick tension, and suddenly all of the daemons in the room became alert and serious – excluding that of Javert’s.   
  
The three burly workers and their daemons took positions at various locations behind the informer, as inconspicuously as possible, and Enjolras approached him outright, Laurea trailing behind. Even still, Inspector Javert did not appear to notice what was going on in front of and behind him until he was spoken to.  
  
“Who are you?” Enjolras asked, brazen and bold.   
  
The man started, and then stood at the same time as his daemon. A grim smile crossed his face; haughty and resolved, he looked Enjolras in the eyes.  
  
“I am an officer of government.”  
  
“A spy.” They both paused. Enjolras did not break eye contact, but his daemon was taking an aggressive stance at the wolf, her hackles raised and her teeth bared. The wolf arched her back and growled. Ignoring the activity between the two daemons, Enjolras said to Javert, “What is your name?”  
  
“Javert.”  
  
And then Javert darted forward, too quickly for the men behind him to react. They rushed him, two men grabbing his arms and the third standing behind, but Javert utilized a well-placed punch and jerk of his whole body to shake them off. The man with the thylacine daemon fell to the floor at impact, but was soon assisted.  
  
Enjolras, who had not moved at all since Javert said his name, lunged without thinking toward the wolf daemon, which had sprung in the opposite direction as Javert in all the confusion. Unrestrained and wild, he flung his arms around her neck and gripped her fur, and she let out a strangled howl, long and low and loud.   
  
Javert stopped moving at once, allowing the oblivious men to accost him. This time he did not resist, having gone limp. He mouthed what could only have been the name of his daemon, and knew what had happened despite not being in a position to see it.  
  
Enjolras held on to the shuddering daemon with an intrepid ferocity, a fearsome look in his blue eyes. The situation was quickly getting out of hand.  
  
At this point, having heard the howl of a wolf and knowing the only thing that it could be, several insurgents had come down to the basement room, among them Combeferre and Courfeyrac. Seeing Enjolras touching a daemon that was not his own, one of them shouted in panic.  
  
This brought the men who had grabbed Javert to look around - they let go of him immediately as they realized what was going on, and the man’s knees gave out as he fell to the floor, an expression that could only be a mix of disgust and terror on his deathly white face. Though he made no noise, his breathing was nothing but harsh gasps, and his eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets – whether it was him feeling what his daemon felt or plain alarm at what was happening, it was unclear. The wolf daemon was still convulsing under Enjolras’s severe touch, still barking, still trying to reach her human; seemingly in shock at what he had done, Enjolras had not yet let go.   
  
It took both Courfeyrac and Combeferre to get him off of her, and as soon as he let go of her neck she turned and bounded toward Javert, who opened his arms and embraced her. Everyone present averted their eyes; such affection between human and daemon was typically considered to be private among adults. Gavroche alone, never having learned proper etiquette aside from the things he knew instinctively, kept watching, his daemon resting on his shoulder in the form of a mouse.  
  
When Javert was finished reuniting with his daemon, he stood, and was set upon without delay by the men who had confronted him before. Hastily, they bound his wrists behind his back and brought him to the column in the middle of the room. They tied him there, tightly enough that he could not move, but giving his daemon ample room to sit beside him. Even after the violation he and his daemon had just experienced, each of them held their heads high, though Javert was still quite pale.  
  
This caused confusion for those who had arrived moments before.  
  
As if he had forgotten what he had just done, Enjolras announced to the room with utmost calm, “he is a spy”. Looks of realization passed the faces of those in the room, and Gavroche felt he had accomplished something. Still, to most, this was not an excuse for what Enjolras had done.  
  
Rotating on his heels to look at Javert, Enjolras continued: “We will shoot you before the taking of the barricade.”  
  
“Why not immediately?” Javert asked, strikingly cavalier.  
  
Enjolras did not lower his eyes. “We are economizing on powder.”  
  
“With a knife, then.”  
  
“We are judges, not assassins,” he replied.   
  
Javert did not respond but for a sneer.


End file.
